


Christmas at Blackrock Stronghold

by kenmarlenn



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:17:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3296765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenmarlenn/pseuds/kenmarlenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an attempt to cover Blackrock Stronghold in snow, Zoeya drags Rythian out on a snow gathering trip. But after a snowstorm leaves them stranded far from home, Zoeya reveals she wants more than just snow for Christmas. Can Rythian make sure his apprentice gets the Christmas she wishes for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas at Blackrock Stronghold

**Author's Note:**

> This was written about a year ago for Yogscast Secret Santa on Tumblr. I dare say I've improved my writing since then, but I figured I'd put this up here anyways. Enjoy! Happy * Christmas!
> 
> *belated/early/it's nowhere near

The sun was setting. The snow lay in drifts. Clean, freshly fallen snow, untouched… Except for the four sets of footprints of various sizes that broke the landscape.

The mage, Rythian, struggled to walk through the drifts while holding a map in one hand and a levitating ball of orange flame in the other. He held the flame close to the map in order to read it in the dimming light, but the thin paper did not catch fire. Irritated mumbles could be heard from behind the wooly scarf covering his face. He was tailed by a large, lumbering figure—Johnny Iron, one of Rythian’s two iron golem bodyguards—and a nimbler one, Teep the Dinosaur, who was had his bow ready to shoot. Far ahead of them was a bright red speck, Zoeya Proasheck, navigating the tree-dotted landscape with leaps and bounds.

“Zoeya, really, why are we going so far out from the castle to get a bunch of _snow_?” Rythian called through the trees where he last saw Zoeya. “There’s a perfectly serviceable taiga biome across the lake from Blackrock. We passed _through it_ to get here. Why do we have to find another one?”

“Because, _Rythian_ , it’s Christmas,” his apprentice replied, and poked her head out from behind a tree completely opposite of where Rythian had been looking.

He oriented himself so he could see her and sighed. “Could you be more specific than that, please?”

Zoeya sat down in a snow bank and smiled at him condescendingly. “It’s Christmas, and Blackrock doesn’t look festive enough. We need to collect enough snow to cover our territory.” She tried to stand up again, but the snow was too deep. After floundering about for a few seconds, she looked up at Rythian sheepishly. “Umm…”

He sighed again, but gestured behind him. “Johnny?” The giant iron golem lumbered over to Zoeya when he heard his name and pulled her free of the snow pile. He turned to move back to his place behind Rythian, but after a second, Johnny handed Zoeya a diamond shovel that had been strapped to his back along with other tools and items. He patted the snow bank where Zoeya had been sitting, then pointed to the shovel. Certain Zoeya had gotten his message, Johnny returned to Rythian.

She had indeed gotten his message, and started to shovel the snow into a burlap sack she’d slung over her shoulder before leaving Blackrock Stronghold. “This is a good spot to get some snow,” she said.

“That brings us back to the question I _actually_ asked you,” said Rythian. He took a look at the map, then a quick survey of their surroundings—snow piles as far as he could see, snow covered spruces. Everything looked the same—if they weren’t careful, they might get lost. Or maybe they already were. “Why here? Why not the taiga biome nearer to home?”

“We already explored that one. To get the perfect snow, we need to go where no one has gone before—where no mortal feet hath trodden, there we shalt find the perfect snow,” Zoeya declared.

“ _What?_ ” Rythian said, confused.

Zoeya laughed. “Be honest, Rythian, this snow is perfect. No footprints from neighbors passing through.”

He looked around again. It was true--there weren’t any footprints that he could see besides their own. “Alright, fine. If this is what will make you happy… Give me a shovel, Johnny.” The iron golem handed him one made of red matter. Rythian grabbed his own burlap sack and began to shovel. “I have to admit that this place is pretty. The snow on the trees make them seem…Christmas-y.”

“Yeah,” Zoeya said wistfully. “I love the Christmas season, with the tree, and the presents, and the cozy fire, and the presents, and the hot chocolate and cookies, and the presents…”

Rythian stopped scooping snow and leaned on his shovel. “So to clarify, you expect all of that to happen this year?”

“Of course. Those are the basics of Christmas. I haven’t even started on the list of what I _want_ for presents,” said Zoeya.

“I assume it’s…extensive.”

“Yep!” she said cheerfully, and began to close up her bag of snow. She picked it up and tossed it to Johnny, who tied it to the strap on his back. Rythian quickly finished filling his bag as well. “Now, to walk all the way home. Onward, Rythian!” Zoeya cried. Rythian looked at Zoeya, then at the map, then at the landscape. Then at the map again. Then back at Zoeya. She sighed. “You don’t know where we are, do you?”

* * *

 

“You said it was fine! You said you knew where we were!” Zoeya shouted through the snow. The flurries from before had turned into a full blown storm, and the sun had completely set, turning everything dark.

Rythian was ahead of her, still holding the map, though he made no attempt to read it. “I thought I did! Look, we just need to find…a plains biome! That’s on the way home.”

“Rythian, this is not a good situation in which to be _lost_! It’s night, there’s a bunch of monsters everywhere, and it’s cold, a-and this snow is making it hard to see,” called Zoeya. There was only silence. She stopped moving, and squinted into the darkness ahead. “Rythian?” she said, louder this time. More silence. “Teep?” The snow was collecting in the creases of her jacket and her cape, and she had to keep blinking to melt the snow on her eyelashes. “ _Rythian_!” A spot of orange light began to glow through the snow. _Fire?_ Zoeya thought. She trudged towards it, dreaming of heat. Maybe a house. Maybe some nice chicken roasting on the fire that the resident would be able to part with. Maybe a warm spare bed. Then, in the morning, she could go search for Rythian. He had his magic—he could survive for a while.

She had walked for only a few yards when she found the source of the light—Rythian’s magic flame. Rythian himself had taken off his gloves and scarf. He was sitting under a large tree, on a patch of ground that had been cleared of snow, and Johnny Iron stood facing the wind, trying to shield Rythian and balance Teep, who was sitting on his shoulders as a sentry. The magic light had been placed in the middle of the ground. Rythian was staring at it intensively and muttering to himself, and seemed oblivious to the thin layer of snow on his clothes and hair. When he heard Zoeya approach, he looked up at her and grinned. Zoeya suddenly found that infuriating, and sat down next to him with a huff. “You left me,” she complained.

“I was only a few yards ahead,” Rythian said. “I was trying to find us some shelter, since you were having such a miserable time.”

Zoeya sighed. “Thanks. At least we have a fire, right?”

“Well…half of one. I mean, this only gives off light,” Rythian explained. He shivered a little bit. “Not heat.”

“Oh,” Zoeya said quietly. “How much longer until the day? When does this snow stop?”

Rythian pulled out a clock from his belt. “The sun first rises around four in the morning. It’s,” he leaned out from under the cover of the tree and squinted up at the moon, “about ten. Night will last for six more hours. The snow should end about then, as well.”

Zoeya flopped backwards into the snow and groaned. “Six _hours_?!”

* * *

 

****11:00 PM****

“Taiga biome, right next to home. We could have gone there.”

“Yes, that might have prevented this, but we have some really good snow!”

“What exactly designates really good snow?”

“Would you like me to get into it? I can. There are many reasons why some snow is good snow.”

“No—Well—I mean—We have some time.”

“Firstly, the best way to eliminate a sample of snow is if it is yellow. _Do not eat the yellow snow_. Secondly…”

****12:00 AM****

“Hey, you look tired. Do you want to sleep?”

“What, and leave you here to stare into the fire and contemplate your life and reflect on deep things like in every movie where the heroes are stranded and one of them sleeps?”

“I…probably wouldn’t do that, no. But you should probably sleep, we walked for a while.”

“Alright, fine. G’night, Rythian.”

“Good night, Zoeya.”

****1:00 AM****

“Mm…Rythian…? What was that noi—”

“Shhh…”

“What? What is it?”

“…Mobs. A zombie and a skeleton. They haven’t seen us yet.”

“What? Get rid of them, get rid of them!”

“Teep?”

“…”

“I heard some thuds—are they dead?”

“…”

“Good. It’s okay, Zoeya, you can go back to sleep. Teep’s protecting us.”

“Okay. Thanks, Teep…Rythian?”

“Yes?”

“I’m cold.”

“I won’t let you freeze, don’t worry.”

****2:00 AM****

“…Johnny? Do you have any iron in your pack? And any flint?”

“…”

“No, I suppose we didn’t think to pack any…It’s just that—I’m _moving around_ and I’m cold—Zoeya is starting to get covered in snow and ice…”

“…”

“She’s shivering. Oh, I can’t hold all this against her. She wanted to make this season a memorable one. I mean, it defiantly is _now_ , but she was trying to make it memorable in a good way.”

“…”

“I can’t leave her like this. I can last without a few layers of clothing for a while.”

****3:00 AM****

“Teep.”

“…”

“Has the snow stopped?”

“…”

“Alright. I’ll wake her in a bit, once the mobs start burning.”

****4:00 AM****

Rythian awoke to the sound of clattering bones and the smell of burnt, rotten flesh—not exactly what one wants to smell first thing in the morning. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but upon waking up he realized he’d definitely need more rest than just one hour. Teep was still sitting on Johnny Iron’s shoulders, grinning smugly as he shot at mobs burning in the sunlight. When he noticed Rythian was awake, he slid off and gave him a thumbs up.

“Great,” Rythian said. “Johnny?” The iron golem didn’t move. “Hey, Johnny! Buddy, you alright?” Teep climbed back up onto Johnny and brushed off all the snow that had collected on his chest, head, and shoulders. When there was still no reaction, Teep got down and shot an arrow at his back. Irritated, Johnny finally began to move and shook of the remaining snow.

Everyone was roused except Zoeya. She was still sleeping soundly, as she had been for a few hours. At some point in the night—his memory was too foggy to remember when—Rythian had repositioned her so that Zoeya’s head was lying on his lap instead of the snow pillow she had made. No sense in her brain freezing. Of course, now he was stuck sitting here. He could wake her by standing up and dumping her off his lap, but that would just be cruel. Besides, she looked peaceful sleeping…Maybe she didn’t have to be woken up.

* * *

 

It was easier to navigate in the daytime and without all the snow. Honestly, Rythian didn’t know how they got lost—He had an impeccable sense of direction. If he thought about it, it didn’t make sense at all. He knew the location of Blackrock Stronghold down to the coordinates, could find out the direction they were facing by looking at the sun—how on _earth_ did they get lost? Ah, well, perhaps it was fate (or just a purposeful oversight to create a plot, but what would Rythian know of that sort of thing?).

They made it back to Blackrock Stronghold with little problem. Zoeya stayed asleep—Teep and Johnny Iron had managed to help Rythian pick her up and carry her. She still looked tired, and stayed asleep no matter how many bumps in the road there were. Finally, the group reached one of the flaming netherrack columns that designated the boundary of their land.

The castle wasn’t completely repaired yet—Baby Jim was a further trek than that stupid taiga biome was. Plus, basalt was heavy, and bringing both Johnny Iron and Red Five along to help carry it left Blackrock unprotected. Johnny dragged the bags of snow over to a hole in the castle wall near the entrance and left them there. He then removed the supply belt from his waist and dropped it inside. With a salute to Teep and Rythian, and a wave to his golem friend Red Five, Johnny walked over to his enclosure and went inside. He fell asleep where he stood almost as soon as he closed the door. Teep put away his bow and started towards his tower.

Rythian pushed open the door to the castle with one foot and carefully maneuvered inside so that Zoeya wasn’t jarred. When they reached the living room, he set her down on the couch. “Christmas tree, fire, hot chocolate, cookies, presents. Christmas tree, fire, hot chocolate, cookies, presents,” Rythian muttered to himself as he left Zoeya and went into the magic room. Opening the alchemist chest, he searched for something he could use to help with any of that…’Christmas stuff’ Zoeya was expecting. _Diamonds, wood, red matter, a bunch of…bones…a sapling—Ah!_ Rythian pulled the sapling out of the jumbled mess of items in the chest. The sapling had taken root in a bit of dirt, which must have kept it somewhat alive. He regarded the sapling and frowned. It wasn’t a pine tree, or any kind of evergreen, and it was a bit sickly looking—white, thin, drooping leaves that the stem couldn’t hold upright. Maybe some water and bone meal would help it feel better. He grabbed the bones and crushed them, then pocketed the bone meal.

“Pot, pot, I need a pot.” So Rythian searched for a pot. Nothing. _Alright, back a crafting step?_ There weren’t any bricks either. _Ok, fine, clay?_ None. He sighed, and decided to settle for a bucket. He found one quickly and placed it on the ground, then filled it halfway with some dirt from the bottom of the chest. The ill sapling fit inside it nicely. Rythian knew he’d have to add more fertilizer than bone meal—the tree had to live through the Christmas season! Luckily, there were a few rotten pumpkins in the chest that might do the trick. Really, he should clean out this chest more often.

Rythian carried his load back into the lounge and dumped it unceremoniously—but quietly--onto the floor. He could grow the tree later—there were other things he had to do first. _Tree, check. Now…refreshments?_ Obviously he wanted the hot chocolate to still be hot when Zoeya woke up, but he could start on the cookies. Though…cookies would involve baking. Rythian didn’t make baking a hobby. Well, he could try, and hope for an ‘it’s the thought that counts’ situation, but he’d have to warn everyone not to eat them.

He headed for the kitchen. It wasn’t much in the way of utilities, since he had broken down a lot of them for scrap after Zoeya had redecorated, and almost none of them had actually _worked_ in the first place. Rythian knew that they would almost never have a use for a kitchen since they cooked and ate food on the fly, but Zoeya had insisted that every house needed a kitchen. (She used the same argument to get him to agree to leave the bathroom alone, which was even more useless than a kitchen because for some reason, no one in Minecraftia ever had to _go_ to the bathroom, and even if they did nothing in _there_ worked correctly either.)

Rythian opened the cabinets and found things stacked on every shelf. Unfortunately, most of it was not edible. The storage in here was mostly used as... well, storage for _everything_ , not just food. There were the chests of meat and vegetables, but the meat was almost certainly rotten, and he was pretty sure mushrooms had been growing in the vegetable remains even when Zoeya first stocked the kitchen. He shoved aside some of the clutter and managed to find some wheat, a small glass bottle of milk, sugar cane, eggs, and some cocoa beans that Zoeya somehow hadn’t found. Rythian knew that all he _really_ needed to make cookies were the cocoa beans and wheat, but he wanted to try and make some _real, **proper**_ chocolate chip cookies. Yeah, chocolate chips weren’t Christmassy, but there wasn’t anything to make gingerbread with. Besides, Zoeya loved chocolate.

A few minutes later he had found a bowl and other equipment, and was turning the wheat and sugar cane into their refined states (he supposed he broke the universal laws of Minecraftia by somehow turning wheat into flour instead of bread, he decided not to question it.) He had checked all over for a recipe. In the bin, in the cabinets—Rythian even opened the meat chest, which was a mistake. The rotten meat smelled _horrible_. He’d never get the stench out of his clothes, and he didn’t even get what he wanted. He was sure he’d need a recipe—Rythian had only had cookies when he and Zoeya snuck some from the Jaffa factory, and he wasn’t sure he remembered how they tasted, or how they were made (yes, the Jaffa’s from the Jaffa factory were really normal cookies—Xephos had just had them changed cosmetically to simplify production and satisfy Honeydew at the same time.)

But he would have to make do without the recipe. _They don’t look that bad, actually,_ Rythian thought proudly, looking at the blobs of dough lined up on the cookie sheet an hour later. He slipped them into the furnace, which was really one of the only things that worked like it was supposed to. Taking out his clock again, he checked the time, and jotted down a note to himself— _Check on cookies at 6:30_. No use going to all this trouble and having the cookies burn.

Rythian was already very tired, but he knew he had to keep going. He wanted to surprise Zoeya with the effort he had made to give her a good Christmas. He made a pit stop in the lounge to see how she was doing. She was still sleeping soundly, and looked much warmer than she had been. They didn’t have a fireplace installed in the lounge, but Rythian would have to make do. He placed a few stones in a circle on the floor under the blackboard, and lit a fire with one of his rings that he had gotten from the magic room. He stared into it, satisfied, and stepped back as the flames grew higher. “As for the tree…”

* * *

 

Zoeya was frolicking in fluffy pink clouds in the fluffy pink Land of Unicornia.

A unicorn suddenly appeared in front of her. “Come fly with me,” said the unicorn as it pooped out a bunch of glitter.

Normally, Zoeya would have been disgusted by such behavior, but she was kind of out of it. “Okay!” she chirped, and leapt onto the unicorn’s back. The unicorn jumped high into the air and landed on the next cloud. They skipped clouds until they reached a large pink and white castle, floating in the air. The unicorn quite rudely bucked Zoeya off of its back and continued on, fading into the sparkle rain that had just started. “Well,” she huffed. She looked at the shiny castle and saw a man waving at her from the top of the castle’s tallest tower. The figure started shouting her name and gesturing to her to join him. Zoeya squinted up at him, and was excited to see that the man was Rythian.

Zoeya willed herself to fly, and to her surprise, she began to float upwards—slow at first, then faster. She eventually landed on the window sill of the tower and looked around for Dream Rythian. She couldn’t see anyone—but the room seemed to be emitting heat and a very familiar, delicious smell…cookies?

Zoeya couldn’t find any kind of fire, or a plate of cookies. But she suddenly realized how cold and hungry she was. The blissful feeling she had had while exploring the Land of Unicornia was gone-she wished she had it back, that feeling that not even a unicorn pooping glitter while in the middle of a conversation could weird her out (Now that she didn’t feel so happy, she took a moment to be properly disgusted by that.)

But she _really wanted those cookies_. She wanted to feel the heat of a fire. She wanted to see Rythian. She wanted to wake up. (She was perfectly aware that the Land of Unicornia was a dream land—real unicorns poop butterflies. Every sane person knows that.)

 _Wake up_ , she told herself, _come on!_

The smell grew stronger and the heat increased. Dream Zoeya squeezed her eyes shut, willed herself to wake up, and—

* * *

 

Zoeya slowly opened her eyes again and found herself staring up at a ceiling. _The lounge in the castle,_ she guessed. She often came in to take naps on the couch—it was actually a comfortable one, despite all of the right angles—so she spent hours staring up at that same ceiling. The cookie scent was strong now, like it was right…next to…her…

Zoeya turned her head to the left, towards the coffee table, and saw a plate of cookies. Real, chocolate chip, freshly baked, still warm cookies. Her stomach growled at the sight of them, and so she made the effort to reach out and grab one. Zoeya groped around on the table for a bit before touching the plate, then took a cookie. They were as good as they smelled and looked.

Sitting next to the plate was a steaming mug, and Zoeya sat up to see what was inside. _Mmm, hot chocolate,_ she thought. She took a sip, and felt much warmer.

She heard a tinkling sound from behind her. Curious, she set the mug back down on the table and turned, leaning over the back of the couch. Instead of her usual view of the lounge, she was surprised to find that half of her vision was covered by a large oak tree. “Woah,” Zoeya said.

A head poked out from behind the tree. “Zoeya, you’re awake!” Rythian exclaimed, and rounded the trunk. “I, ah, haven’t finished my projects yet…I thought you’d be out of it for at least an hour more.” He peered over her shoulder at the coffee table and frowned. “Did you eat a cookie?”

“Maybe,” Zoeya said sheepishly. “Why?”

“Well, it was just—I made those cookies, and I was going to warn you not to—”

“You made them?” Zoeya asked, and grinned. “They were really, really good! I should make you cook me stuff more often!”

Rythian just gave her a surprised look and a quite expressive, “Ummm.”

“Now, about the _tree_ in the middle of the lounge...?” Zoeya gestured to the tree, and for the first time noticed that its trunk was wrapped in tinsel and ornaments hung in its branches. “Hold on, is that supposed to be our—”

“Yeah,” Rythin said, “it’s our Christmas tree.”

Zoeya giggled. Then she started laughing. Rythian looked at her like she was crazy, but she couldn’t stop. “It’s the greatest thing ever,” she managed between bouts of laughter. “Let me guess—you used whatever you could find? It’s perfect, it’s just sitting there in a pile of mud on the floor! Oh, look at you, I can see through your mask, you’re blushing.”

“What? No! I’m not blushing. I totally knew your laughing meant you liked it,” Rythian said, blushing even more. “A-Anyways, I’m not done decorating it, so if you want to help me finish it, that’d be great.”

“Rythian, it’s not even Christmas Eve—why are you getting all into the Christmas spirit so early?” Zoeya asked, and stood from the couch, brushing cookie crumbs off of her sweater. “Or at all? You’ve never been so enthusiastic about Christmas. You’ve always had that, ‘Zoeya is crazy but I’ll humor her and try to force something like a smile to appear on my face’ look.”

“I don’t—that’s not a thing I do,” Rythian muttered, and turned to the tree. He reached down and picked up an ornament from a box on the floor and tossed it to Zoeya, who barely caught it.

Zoeya examined the orb and smiled when she noticed a tiny mushroom painted onto the bottom. “Look, Rythian, it’s the one I made the first Christmas we spent together.” She stood on her tiptoes and hung the ornament on the highest branch she could reach. Grabbing another one, she frowned and looked at Rythian, who was just hanging ornaments without examining them. “Is this just a slime ball?”

He looked over at it and shrugged. “Yeah, another one from our first Christmas. It wasn’t like I had Christmas ornaments stocked up, so I used whatever round things I could find and stuck hooks on them. You never noticed?”

“Nope.”

“Wow.”

Zoeya hung the slime ball on the tree with the others, and pulled out other random objects from the box, like an egg, a ghast tear, a fire charge—“A potato?” she muttered, but put it on the tree with the others.

* * *

 

A half an hour later, they were done decorating. Rythian and Zoeya sat on the couch, warming by the fire and eating cookies. Neither of them was talking much. There was munching and the fire crackling, but neither had much to say.

Finally, Rythian spoke up. “Was it everything you expected?” Zoeya looked at him questioningly. “I mean, besides the failure with the snowstorm, was all this Christmas stuff good enough for you? Until Christmas day, at least.”

Zoeya sighed and leaned back into the couch. “Well…I suppose…until Christmas day…” she said reluctantly, then smiled at him and shook her head. “Rythian, it’s awesome. Thank you for thinking of me. But my turn for a question—do you like Christmas a bit more? Or are you still the Grinch?”

“Excuse me?” Rythian exclaimed, wrinkling his nose. “I am _not_ the Grinch! I am not green.” He laughed and smiled back. “Yes, I like Christmas. I always have, I just never really got… _into_ it.”

“Well, now I’m here to celebrate with you, and there’s no way you’ll get _out_ of it,” Zoeya said, and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Now eat cookies and accept your culinary prowess.” She handed him another cookie and grabbed one for herself.

Rythian was dumbstruck for almost a full five seconds, then regained his wits enough to eat the cookie, then engaged his brain even more to accept his culinary prowess. They sat in silence again until they heard heavy footsteps from the hall.

The lounge door opened slowly. The doorway was filled with a giant metal torso, which stooped down low as a metal head poked through. Johnny Iron’s gaze swept the room and finally landed on Rythian and Zoeya. His expression, usually dull and uninterested, changed into something almost like guilt.

“Johnny?” Rythian said carefully, “What is it?”

Johnny wobbled back and forth nervously and threw his arm backward awkwardly. He shuffled away from the door, and Zoeya and Rythian hear him retreat down the hall. They glanced at each other and set down the cookies, stood, and followed Johnny. When they reached the upstairs bathroom, Johnny stopped and gestured to the closed door. Water seeped from under it. A lot of water. Rythian dipped the toe of his boot into it, and yanked it back as the water soaked into it. _Cold_ water.

Zoeya pushed open the door to the bathroom and stared. The bathtub was filled with water, which was leaking over the rim and across the floor. Floating on the top of the water were two burlap sacks, completely limp. Zoeya sighed and closed the door. “So. All the snow melted.” Johnny Iron nodded and stood off to the side, obviously ashamed. Zoeya turned to Rythian and gazed at him sadly. “We’ve got to get more, Rythian…”

Everything in him wanted to scream no, to remind her of the problems going out for snow had caused, and that the snow would just melt again before they could make the area cold enough to keep it frozen. But looking at her, with that sad, pleading expression, and cookie crumbs on her face, he couldn’t refuse. “Of course we do,” Rythian said, neither sarcastically nor committedly. Zoeya squealed and hugged him tightly. He winced. “Zoeya, those things you’re crushing? Those are my vital organs, and they _are_ kind of vital.”

Zoeya let him go and went back into the bathroom, returning with the two bags. She looked at Johnny Iron. “It’s okay, it was an accident. Can you and Red Five clean this mess? Rythian and I have to go get more snow,” Zoeya winked in Rythian’s direction, “from the biome across the lake. So we won’t get lost, don’t worry.” Johnny nodded and lumbered down the stairs to fetch Red Five.

Rythian extended his arm, and Zoeya took it, as they climbed down the stairs. “Covering the castle isn’t going to work,” Rythian mused, “but maybe we can use the snow to remake Gilbert, and make snow cones or something.”

“As long as you make them!”

“You’re never going to let the cookies go, are you?”

“They were _delicious_!”


End file.
